


Snared

by AraSigyrn



Series: In the Dragon's Lair [1]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2012-10-10
Packaged: 2017-11-16 01:03:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AraSigyrn/pseuds/AraSigyrn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Kink Bingo for the 'Consent' Square:</p>
<p>Adam wins Kris at a poker table.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snared

**Author's Note:**

> Written with the help of deannawol, BBH & Beta of Epic Butt-kicking, and the ladies of the Kradam Mailing List. ♥

Nobody tells Kris anything.

Nobody told him that it wasn't his barely-usable administrative skills that made Simon keep him in his entourage. Nobody told him they were going to Vegas. Nobody told him that Simon had a gambling problem and Kris is pretty fucking sure nobody told him that Simon could bet _Kris_ in an all or nothing poker hand.

Adam Lambert tells Kris that Simon lost by ordering Kris to get him a shot of tequila. "And lose the shirt, hayseed," Adam's smile shows strong white teeth. "I'm feeling like a few body shots."

Simon is already gone. Kris doesn't have his wallet or his passport or even his hotel keys. So he doesn't argue when Adam sends him to the bar. One of Adam’s flock of pretty boys follows Kris over. He’s possibly meant to a body-guard but Kris doesn't think so. He also very pointedly does not think ‘hooker’ because his momma raised him right, dammit! Kris feels every bit the hayseed beside this guy, with his flawless makeup and perfectly styled hair. "You don't actually need to strip."

"Oh?" Kris says warily as he waves down the bartender. "Thanks, I guess?"

"Two bottles of tequila," the guy has blond spiky hair and the eyeliner makes his eyes look feline and hypnotic. He's not that pretty underneath, Kris thinks (hopes?) and he settles his elbow on the bar, smiling like they're friends, before Kris can open his mouth. "Seriously. That wife beater does awesome things for your arms. Just lose the shirt."

Kris is still sputtering when he gets gently, but inescapably, led back to Adam's table. Adam pulls Kris into his lap and presses a finger to his lips when Kris tries to complain. That's how Kris discovers that Adam Lambert isn't just an unfairly rich and ridiculously attractive guy. Because he feels a tingle spread down along his tongue and just like that, Kris' voice just stops working. He can breathe fine, move his lips and tongue but he can't even whimper.

It means that he can't say anything when Adam rucks up the front of his wife-beater so he can run sharp nails across Kris' belly in an absent pattern as he watches the dealer. Kris shivers and Adam smiles at him. His canines look a lot longer this time and Kris squeaks a little.

Adam keeps him in his lap the whole way through the evening. Kris tries to fight once or twice but Adam is freakishly strong and Kris learns really fast that wiggling around in Adam's lap is a bad, bad idea. Adam is not ashamed of his erection and the first time Kris tries to slip loose, Adam just holds him in place and his hips undulate against Kris' ass, cock hard and hot. 

He dry-humps Kris right there with three grey-haired and severe-looking business men sitting around the same blackjack table. Kris tries to bat his hands away but Adam is still freakishly strong, and no-one else will meet Kris’ eye. Adam just holds him there, rubbing his hard dick up against Kris' ass, and the fabric between them suddenly feels far too thin. 

Kris can feel the embarrassment burning along his cheeks as Adam moans low and deep, and he fidgets, trying to curl in on himself. Adam nips his neck lightly and Kris shudders. He doesn't even know why, just that he wants...something.

Adam's hand is shockingly firm against Kris' crotch and Kris yelps. Adam feels him up, casual and open like he isn't _molesting Kris in the middle of a semi-public room_. Kris goes from half to fully hard and aching as Adam rubs the heel of his hand down against the line of Kris' cock and Kris sucks in a surprised breath.

He's going to come in his pants and the thought is shameful but Kris' cock twitches and Adam laughs.

"Up on the table, baby," he says, casual and easy. "I want a shot."

Kris - still achingly, _obviously_ hard - stares at him in horror but Adam just manhandles him up onto the table. There's a wedge of lime, Adam pushing it into his mouth when Kris tries to complain. It's shockingly bitter and Kris' lips pucker around it. Adam kisses him before pushing him back to lean on his hands. Adam's cards are fanned out on the table by Kris' hip.

"Don't move." One of Adam's people has a shot of tequila already poured.

Adam pushes his wife-beater up a whole lot further than Kris thinks is necessary. Kris can't even try to pull it down; his hips are precariously balanced and the only way he can keep from sliding off the table is to keep as much of his weight on his arms as possible. He's helpless and the slow smirk that curves Adam's lips tells him that it was deliberate.

Adam blows lightly against his belly and Kris shivers. The slow drag of Adam's tongue makes Kris' stomach quiver and he can see one of the businessmen slipping his hand discreetly under the table as Adam licks a tingling circle around Kris' navel. The salt is ticklish and Kris can feel the ripple of his giggle through his abs. Adam's smile is quick-silver and brilliant.

Adam licks him again and the shot is treacle-y, cool against his flushed skin as it pools around his belly-button. Kris lets his head fall back and keeps his eyes tightly closed. The slurp as Adam drinks the shot sounds obscene and Kris can’t keep his mind away from the image of that dark head against his belly. He isn't here. This isn't happening. He's just having a really fucked-up wet dream. He’s just-

Adam slaps his hip.

The sting of the slap makes Kris jump and his head jerks up, just in time to see Adam's tongue drag across the pink patch of skin just where his belly is softest before Adam darts up to take the lime out of Kris’ mouth with his teeth. Adam's eyes are narrowed and there's a second where his pupils look slitted like a cat’s. He pulls back as he catches Kris' eye and smiles. Kris feels a shiver of dread go down his spine as those sharp white teeth flash. This time, Adam's smile is cruel.

"Anyone else?" Adam's hands press Kris' hips back against the table. Kris can feel the green felt against his back and it takes a second for Adam's meaning to sink into Kris' overheated brain. He tries to sit up but Adam's hands are immovable and his eyes are dark and dangerous.

"Yeah. Yeah, sure," the blond guy grabs the bottle and the salt-shaker. "Who's got the lime?"


End file.
